The warlock did not hesitate at all. He stomped heavily on the ground, and a thick, murky black smoke billowed up, instantly engulfing his figure.

The righteous warlock controlling the flying sword drew a line with his finger and shouted in a low voice, “Break!”

The flying sword, having destroyed all the firebirds, circled once and suddenly dove toward the ground, like a shark smelling blood, stabbing fiercely at a certain spot on the street.

Puff!~

“Ah!~”

A miserable scream rang out from what had seemed an empty spot, overpowering the muffled sound of the sword piercing flesh.

The black smoke had not yet dissipated, but a dozen steps away, a figure slowly emerged, staggering a few steps, his chest and back quickly soaked and dyed red by gushing blood.

At that moment, the chief steward George Thompson sprang into action. Gripping his ox-ear dagger, he rushed forward, grabbed the warlock’s head, and slashed fiercely across with the blade.

The scream was cut short. A head was forcefully severed, and the evil warlock’s final expression froze on his face, as if in disbelief.

The bandits all looked terrified. The warlock they had always revered had just been beheaded before their eyes.

“Second Brother! I have avenged you!”

Head Butler of Thompson Manor held up the warlock’s head, tears in his eyes as he howled toward the sky.

Seeing that the second steward Charles Thompson had been avenged, David Thompson finally breathed a sigh of relief. He cupped his hands toward the two snow cranes flapping their wings and hovering in midair, saying, “David Thompson of Xiyan Town thanks the two immortals for your assistance.”

Don’t be fooled by the snow cranes and flying swords—these are still warlock techniques. If they were truly immortals, they would have ascended long ago. Addressing them as “immortals” at this moment was both a sign of respect and gratitude.

But no one expected that the two righteous warlocks would not even spare David Thompson a glance, nor pay any attention to Head Butler George Thompson, who had beheaded the evil warlock. Instead, their gazes turned to another spot—the place where The Three Thompson Brothers stood.

The warlock addressed as “junior brother” suddenly sneered and said, “You search high and low only to find it by chance—Mark Thompson, we’ve finally found you!”

“Big Brother!”

John Thompson finally realized that his elder brother Mark Thompson’s strange behavior earlier was not without reason. A sense of unease crept into his heart, as if something bad was about to happen.

“What must come, has finally come!”

With a bitter smile, Mark Thompson turned to look at him and said, “Little brother! I’ll leave the family to you from now on. Second brother is a bookworm, ignorant of worldly affairs and social dealings. In the end, it will all depend on you.”

After speaking, without waiting for John Thompson, William Thompson, and the others to react, he stepped out of the circle of guards, passed through the stunned and hesitant bandits who dared not stop him, and walked toward the two snow cranes that had just landed.

The two snow cranes landed one after the other. The two righteous warlocks jumped down from their backs at the same time, looking at Mark Thompson with arrogant expressions as he approached.

Watching this scene from afar, the bandit chief Old Carter finally realized that the situation on the scene was completely out of control.

“Eldest Brother!”

Second brother William Thompson called out.

“Eldest Brother! Come back!”

David Thompson couldn’t help but grow anxious. With his many years of experience in the underworld, he had detected a hint of murderous intent in the tone of the righteous warlock just now.

However, Mark Thompson simply waved his hand without looking back. He soon stopped, looked at the two righteous warlocks without a trace of fear, and said, “I take responsibility for my own actions. My life is yours to take, but please do not harm my family—they know nothing!”

Second Young Master William Thompson and Little John Thompson both felt a jolt in their hearts. The two righteous warlocks had actually come to take Ethan’s life.

During all these years of wandering in search of immortals, what kind of monstrous crime had Ethan committed to provoke the pursuit of warlocks—and righteous warlocks at that?

……

Chapter 7: The Wrath of Mortals

Clang! The junior brother, whose sword had not yet been drawn, unsheathed his flying sword. It was still a short sword, two feet long, its tip pointed straight at Mark Thompson.

“Li, you really do have some nerve!”

The reason he did not keep his flying sword circling around him like his senior brother was partly to conserve magical power, and partly because his cultivation was not yet sufficient to maintain the sword’s flight for long.

Besides, his senior brother’s single flying sword was enough to protect them both.

The senior brother, whose flying sword circled around him in defense, spoke up: “Hmph! In our eyes, mortals are no different from ants. Whether you live or die depends entirely on our mood. Mark Thompson, you are nothing but a mere mortal—what right do you have to bargain with us?”

His cold gaze swept over the entire street, like a biting wind that made everyone’s hair stand on end, as if in his eyes they were all cattle, sheep, chickens, and dogs awaiting slaughter.

As if to prove his point, he quickly formed a hand seal, and an invisible shockwave instantly swept out in all directions.

Groans sounded one after another on the street. Whether bandits or people of the Thompson Manor, all felt as if their hearts were being gripped tightly by an invisible hand, unbearably uncomfortable.

Those with weaker constitutions saw stars before their eyes, their strength drained, weapons falling from their hands with a clatter. Horses neighed in distress, unable to stand steady, and the bandits on their saddles toppled to the ground like dumplings.

More and more people collapsed to their knees, terrified. So this is the power of a warlock?